The Legend Lives
by Yunasdestiny
Summary: "Death is only a state of being. I've lived past my time before. I can do it again." - A collection of drabbles featuring the legendary guardian himself. Auron finds out that sometimes, what you wanted the most, isn't exactly what it was cut out to be.
1. The Legend Lives

**The Legend Lives**

**Disclaimer:**

**A/N: **Now that I've settled in a bit more within the roleplaying community, I've started to branch out on the characters a bit more. One role I decidedly took on, was that of Auron from Final Fantasy X. Now, I'm still a bit nervous with my interpretation of him, but that's part of the whole learning process. I also said I would one day start a collection of drabbles, so I think this would be a perfect place to start. Some of these are going to be starters that I sent out to other characters, random thoughts of his past and so forth, but that's the whole point of building this collection. That, and I wanted to share them with you guys. So...here goes nothing. For the first piece, I leave you with my introduction to how he comes to be once more. Enjoy!

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It had been far too long since he'd walked the streets and beaten paths of Spira. Where the warrior-monk once dreamed of finding eternal rest alongside his comrades, he was now feeling a pull back toward the world of the living. And it seemed with each passing day, the urge was getting stronger—Even for someone with his strength and discipline.

Auron shifted his left arm from the crimson coat, letting it fall without a care as his bicep flexed. Right hand tightened around the handle of Masamune, he continued his solemn walk through the Farplane, occasionally glancing out of his one good eye at the pyreflies that ruled his home. There was no point to him somewhat materializing into his human form, but he did it anyway just for the hell of it; even if he was translucent, the guardian still clung to the memories of his human life.

Heavy boots stopped abruptly in the same spot they had for what seemed like forever. The jug of sake tied to his side was silently lifted to his lips, taking a generous swig before lowering it away. The warrior-monk spat it out before him, droplets of sake taking a spherical shape mid-air. This was his way—To uphold his guardianship beyond the land of the living. Auron took on those tasks with all he was, and all he'd ever been.

"Death is just a state of being." His gruff voice finally broke the silence, patiently awaiting what he'd come here to do. "My duties as a guardian surpasses both life and death."

A sharp wind kicked up, fanning out the crimson coat around his legs and around his muscular form. Masamune found it's place next to it's wielder, sharply being planted into the ground with little force. For a moment, Auron thought about what it would have felt like to have the wind rush against him again, but it was quickly pushed aside in favor of the images playing up on the liquefied sphere. Nothing else mattered now—Only the faces in which reflected in his good eye. He lifted a strong arm, waving it lazily through the air, bringing them all up simultaneously.

The High Summoner and her other guardians.

"Alive and well, I see." Lips faintly curving upward under his coat, watching them as he had many times over. "My wish for eternal rest betrays me, it seems."

He never knew exactly how long his watchful eye would stare at the sphere. Sometimes he would be interrupted by Braska and Jecht. Other times, the sphere would finally give way, dissipating into the pyreflies in the form of small bubbles. But no matter how his routine visit was cut short, one thing always remained the same: the silent guardian would always wish to see more. It never seemed to be enough, watching them from afar. As far as he was concerned, his wish to watch after them would continue to go on until their time in the Farplane had come like the ones before them.

And, just like all the times before, the sphere simply evaporated into the mist. His time had come to a close.

"Hmph."

The disgruntled response came so naturally these days, but unlike before, Auron made no attempts to move from his spot. Instead, he rolled his shoulder and retrieved Masamune with ease and slung it across his shoulder. Good eye squinting behind his glasses, he began moving forward instead of backward. This wasn't the time or place to be watching from the other side.

"I've lived past my time once before. I can do it again." Continuing to stalk forward with his mind set and determined. "It's been...long enough."

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**Post A/N: **I do plan on writing more of these for the other characters, but right now I'm all about some Auron. As always, constructive criticism is welcome. Let me know how you feel about the way in which I write him. More of this and less of that? Too much? Not enough? I want to hear it all! Thanks for making it this far. Without you, it'd be kinda hard to go on, you know? Much love!


	2. Gone But Not Forgotten

**Gone But Not Forgotten**

**Disclaimer: ** I do not own His Royal Badassness, but I do own the plot. As always, thanks to Squaresoft/Square Enix for giving us these unforgettable characters!

**A/N**: This chapter of the Auron Chronicles will elaborate on his thoughts as he revisits Zanarkand. Not really a whole lot more left to say, because I think this chapter is pretty self explanatory. Happy reading!

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**"Now! This is it! Now is the time to choose! Die and be free of pain...or live and fight your sorrow! Now is the time to shape your stories! Your fate is in your hands!" **

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His first steps back into the living world seemed foreign, to say the least. He was able to feel the full weight of his clothing, Masamune upon his shoulder and the pain from a thousand battle scars. However, it was welcoming. Proof that, while once before he was unsent, this time the warrior-monk had managed to take on more human tendencies than his previous stay on Spira. This was possibly due to the nature of his return—To resume his guardianship over the High Summoner and the rest of her guardians, as opposed to the promises made to his fallen comrades. This was /his/ wish.

A lone brown eye surveyed the room in which he stood as the last of the pyreflies left him, floating upward and fading into the millions of others that thrived here. Left arm tucked safely inside his crimson haori like always, Auron held tight to Masamune with his right hand. Muscles flexing in his forearm as he adjusted his grip; he knew this place well. Before he could carry on with his duties, Auron had to visit and lay his past to rest. Heavy booted footsteps ascended the stairs, leading toward /her/ chamber—The place where he lost his Summoner, and ten years later, gave Braska's progeny and her motley crew the strength to cast away false hope and beliefs.

"My story ended here..." Auron reminisced, staring down the void that sat in the middle of the room where she once stood to end their defiance. "...But I made sure yours did, too."

He dropped the tip of Masamune to the ground next to his right foot, lifting his head up silently. The battle against Yunalesca and her namesake played through his mind, and somewhere in between, so did the day Braska and Jecht submitted to their tragic fate. Ten years here, a thousand years there; they all intertwined themselves inside his mind. Voices bleeding through the images and then fading like the devastating waves that brought Zanarkand to it's knees. His left eye twitched as the scar on his right throbbed.

"Bittersweet are the memories that linger here." Deep and gruff came his thoughts out loud, rolling his shoulder awkwardly. "We all reached this place, each with the same hopes and dreams for the future, yet our stories ended differently. Despite all that, our tragic fates culminated together and brought an ending to the forces that once seemed beyond us."


	3. No Choice In Sight

**No Choice In Sight**

**Disclaimer:** Yeah, I don't own these guys. I just write about them in my own little fantasy world.

**A/N: **So! Hello again, everyone! It's been a bit since I've last posted anything, and while this isn't exactly lengthy, I liked it and thought I would add it to my Auron collection. This would take place before the events of Final Fantasy X; more specifically, after Braska initially asks our young warrior-monk to be his guardian. This, I feel, is how Auron probably reacted. Hopefully, I did a decent job. Anyway, happy reading~

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The razor sharp end of a large katana sliced through flesh with ease, with the wielder grunting slightly as he turned to catch the neck of another fiend before the blood of the current one even hit the ground. One gloved hand and an equally large bare hand tightened their grip around the hilt, driving both weapon and fiend into the ground with such force that it's head was severed in one fell swoop. The warrior-monk held himself there for a few moments, watching the two bodies twitch, yet knowing there was no life left within them.

As the blood ran from his blade, Auron rose from his murderous stance and retrieved his katana with ease. The overwhelming sense of anger he'd started out harboring had now shifted to a slight annoyance by this point, and yet, he still glared down at the slaughtered fiends as if to hope they would randomly spring to life again; it was better to take his frustrations out on them, rather than on people who didn't deserve it. Still, as he planted the tip of his blade back into the crimson stained ground between his heavy boots, a gruff and disgruntled sound made it past his lips out of habit.

"There is no changing your mind—you've made that clear to me, now." Tensing his jaw as his eyes wandered off to gaze out at a world consumed by pure terror. "However, because of our conflict of opinions on the matter, I fail to see how I am worthy of guardianship."

Eyes squinting behind shaded glasses at the thought. He knew what it meant to carry a guardian's burden and status—to protect the summoner with your life, even though in the end, they forfeit theirs. It didn't make sense to the young man and, both because he couldn't comprehend it and was asked to become one, it made the blood held within his veins...boil with rage. How could he do such a thing? How could /anyone/ for that matter?

"There has to be another way, my lord..." Absentmindedly squeezing the hilt of his katana to the point of whitening his knuckles. "...And I will find out what it is, so that you don't carry this burden like the rest."


End file.
